


What You Need To Get Through This

by fourfreedoms



Series: Swan Princess Nate 'Verse [2]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-25
Updated: 2011-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 18:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourfreedoms/pseuds/fourfreedoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad doesn't want to be that disgusting codependent couple, but they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Need To Get Through This

After the crushing exhaustive weight of twenty page papers and three-hour-long exams is past them, Brad heads straight to Nate's apartment.

They're both leaving for home and their families for the holidays and Nate's going to St. Barth's for part of it, so they won't be able to talk. They're not whiny sappy girls who need to be together or talk together or breathe together all time like other couples, except for the part where they are. Brad hates the fact that the only time he's spent with Nate in the last nine days has been in a coffee-driven haze of papercuts and textbooks he doesn't remember ever reading and bleary eyes from staring at the computer screen for two long and trying not to jump off a building from stress.

When Nate answers the door, she's not even bothered to change into girl clothes. She's wearing baggy sweatpants and a track shirt and there are deep purple circles under her eyes. Her gingery brunette hair hasn't been washed in days and it's standing straight up like she's run a hand through it.

She tilts her head against the door frame and says, "I really need a shower."

Brad is content to join her in her ancient bathtub, even though the shower spigot's water pressure feels like a light drizzle and Nate is exhaustedly hogging the spray. She's pliant, letting him kiss her and touch her, arms draped loosely in a circle around his shoulders, letting him hold her up.

He makes her come and he can tell from her face it's almost a surprise. She says I'll miss you, into his neck, words garbled from the fall of water running down off his temples. Brad breathes, cheek brushing hers. It improbably feels more intimate then the slick clench of her pussy around two of his fingers.

They order sushi, far too much of it. After gorging themselves while watching Arrested Development on Nate's bed, getting crumbs everywhere, Nate lies on top of Brad, head pillowed over his heart. Brad peels her pajama pants down (Victoria's Secret with Pink written across the ass in block-letters) and dips his fingers inside her, flexing and working. She wasn't expecting it, or maybe she was, but the noise she makes is gratifying. Soon she's grinding her pelvis against his thigh and then rocking back on his curled fingers. She comes again with a muted exhale, hips stilling and breath evening out.

"Do you want to fuck me?" she asks drowsily.

"I was thinking about it, yeah," he says to crown of her head.

She rolls over him so that she's lying flat on the bed and struggles out of her shirt. Nate is completely unhelpful. She lies there, tops of her breasts flushed the same color as her face, moaning low in her throat, letting him move her wherever he wishes. Sometimes, he fucks her ass in this form, although he knows she prefers to do it as a guy. Tonight isn't one of those nights.

He snorts after he's wrung another orgasm out of her and her head thumps weakly back on the pillows. Her inner walls quaver around his cock.

Her eyelids flutter and she visibly has to work up the energy to say, "Shut up, you try writing your senior thesis and studying for exams at the same time."

But she never asks him to stop and he can't get enough. He knows she feels the same way. She doesn't have to say it. It's exactly what she needs.

Brad licks his come out of her, her heel pushing into his back. The unexpected benefit of long term relationships--fucking without a condom. Half an hour later, they start the whole thing over again.

She's got two of her fingers pushed past the tight scrunch of muscle in his ass in a rare show of initiative for this night when the sun crosses the horizon. Suddenly it's much more real when the fingers inside him thicken and lengthen, the body underneath him fills out and hardens. Brad is still coming to terms with how he feels, sexually, about Nate in boy form, his knee-jerk reaction against all things homosexual.

He moves to roll off of him, but Nate doesn't let him go. He catches his mouth in a kiss, finger-fucking him through it, brushing up against his prostate with unerring regularity. Brad's dick slides wetly against the defined muscles of Nate's abs. It makes him horribly uncomfortable and he feels excruciatingly vulnerable, but he lets Nate flip them over and he never says stop, because somehow, it's exactly what he needs. He comes with Nate's thumb pushing at the corner of his mouth, forcing his mouth wider against the onslaught of Nate's kiss, and Nate's hand working expertly between them.

Finally it feels like the desperate ache inside him is gone. He can let him go off to St. Barths. A long enough high to last him through this break. The sound of his own breath is a revelation, how ragged and torn it is. Nate makes a sound that's closer to pain than pleasure, but carries an added note of relief. He pulls himself up off Brad and to his own half the bed, before collapsing with an arm over his eyes. All of the exhaustion of the past week bowling into them.

Nate drops his arm from his eyes, hand falling artlessly over Brad's. There's a river of space between them. Nate can't fall asleep without space. But he doesn't move away and Brad finds himself rotating his hand to lace their fingers together, clasping tight like he'll never let go.


End file.
